Clarisse's Catharsis
by TanteKJ
Summary: Clarisse grieves for what was lost and gains that which she never thought possible. Post PD2 Disclaimer: Disney and Meg Cabot own Princess Diaries.


Joe's heart reflected in his eyes as he gazed upon the sight before him.

"They told me you were in here." He whispered, walking to Clarisse's side. "I thought they were kidding."  
He smiled warmly to deflect the look he knew would be coming his way.

"Cheeky." She whispered.

Joe smiled wider as Clarisse allowed a gentle sigh and slid her right hand into his left.

"He grew fussy just as Amelia, Helen, and I were finishing up. Helen was kind enough to indulge me when I asked if I could be the one to put Trevor down for his nap." Clarisse stopped for a beat and sighed again. "I missed this."

His eyes studied her profile as she gazed down at the small bundle she had just laid in the crib. He knew her words held a double meaning. What he didn't know if she had just told him that she wanted to talk about it.  
Squeezing her hand warmly, Joseph caught her eye and motioned towards the door with his head. Wordlessly, the pair left the nursery and headed for their private chambers.  
Joseph released his grasp on her hand once they made it to their door, allowing her to enter first. His eyes stayed on her on he closed the door behind them. He watched as she made her way over to her side of the bed, where she began to remove her watch from one wrist and her ornate bracelet from the other. She set both items down gently on the bedside table and then glanced up at her husband.  
"I'm going to take a bath." Clarisse began softly. "When I come out I'd...I'd like to talk."  
Joseph bowed his head in understanding.  
"I will be right here waiting, my Darling."  
Clarisse offered him a warm smile before rising from her bed, crossing the room, and disappearing behind a heavy door.  
Joseph waited for the sound of running water before moving to change his clothing and order tea for his bride.

Warm eyes fell upon Clarisse as she emerged from the bathroom several minutes later. She was clad in a dusty pink pajama set, her face free from make-up, and her blond hair slightly curled around her ears. She looked fresh and lovely, though Joseph could see the faint traces of redness around her eyes. He knew without needing to that her bath had washed away her tears as well as her "Queen Visage."  
She climbed onto the bed wordlessly and snuggled up against her husband's strong, solid form.  
He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders as she began to speak.  
"I missed it." She whispered.  
A very small smile tugged at Joe's lips. He had known this was coming.  
"Missed what, my Darling?"  
"Joseph." She said with a slight warning tone.  
He squeezed her shoulders lovingly before pivoting their bodies so that they were sitting face to face.  
"I know what you mean, Clarisse, and I don't wish to upset you but I think it important that you be able to say it out loud. For yourself, for your granddaughter, and for your son."  
Clarisse shook her head as sadness overtook her features. She fought back against the tears that threatened to fall once again. She steeled herself with a deep breath and began to speak.  
"I missed so much of her life, Joseph. I didn't go to her...didn't even try...for *15* years."  
He reached for her hands, sliding warm fingers over hers where they shook at her sides.  
"He asked you not to. She asked you not to."  
Clarisse shook her head.  
"A poor excuse, Joseph. She's my granddaughter, my *only grandchild* and I let Helen just take her away." She sighed sadly. "If Philippe hadn't...if the accident hadn't...I would never know her."  
Joseph fought the urge to take Clarisse into his arms. Instead he swallowed hard against his own emotions and waited for her to continue. He knew there was more and he'd be damned if he was the one to get in her way now.  
"Why didn't I fight for her? Why didn't I demand Amelia and Helen come to Genovia? When did my heart become so hard that I simply accepted Philippe's choosing his country over his family? Why? Because that's what I did? Just because Rupert and I were conditioned to accept it doesn't mean that we did right by our sons by trying to carry on the 'family tradition'! Not that we really did, if you think about it. Pierre left the Crown behind altogether and Philippe sacrificed his family for it. What a lovely legacy!"  
Clarisse was breathing heavy now, her grief leading her away from her sadness and into a rage that she had never allowed.  
Joseph said not a word, made not a move. She needed this.  
It was powerful.  
It was cathartic.  
And it was time.  
"And who would I be?" Clarisse demanded harshly. "After Rupert died, I steeled myself. I still had my son, Genovia still had a Royal heir to the throne but then...I became 'The Queen'. A figure head. A character. Perhaps a caricature."  
He contemplated stopping her at that but fought it.  
"She brought me back to life, Joseph." Clarisse whispered rawly. "I never would have become this person on my own, never would have moved on from my grief...never would have let myself love you, in or out of the shadows."  
The last part he knew and didn't try to fight her on, but her other points. He couldn't let her believe that. But she plowed on before he had a chance to form a thought.  
"I don't deserve her, Joseph. Her loyalty, her love. I don't deserve it."  
She rose from the bed with that, her emotions sending her from one side of the spacious bedroom to the other in a frantic pace.  
"What do I do?"  
Her voice was demanding, her pacing coming to an abrupt stop as she gazed wide-eyed and breathless upon her husband.

"Joseph, what do I do?"

"Nothing."

Clarisse blinked several times. Of all the responses she had expected to receive from him, that was not one of them.

"I beg your pardon?" She said when she had found her voice again.

"You don't do anything, Clarisse. You don't need to."

Joseph rose from the bed then and walked over to her, stopping once he was standing right in front of her.

"You don't owe Amelia anything."

"I beg your pardon." Clarisse repeated. "Are you ill?"

Joseph allowed a small smile at that.

"No, my Darling. I am as fit as a fiddle."

"Are you certain?" She asked, regarding him quizzically.

"Allow me to explain." Joseph took Clarisse by the hand and moved them both until they sat on the foot of the bed.

"You brought her to life, Clarisse." Joseph began, paraphrasing Clarisse's words back to her. "That awkward young woman we met in San Francisco those years ago is now Queen of Genovia...because of you."

Clarisse shook her head. She knew what he was trying to do.

"Joseph, I didn't - it doesn't change the - "

"The past, no, it doesn't."

"I was going to say "facts" but I suppose its the same difference."

"It is." Joseph agreed. "Clarisse, I dare say you have no debt to repay to Amelia. I don't think that. I don't think she thinks that. And it does you no good to think that, either."

Clarisse's shoulders fell with the heavy breath that left her lungs.

She opened her mouth to say more when a soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Who could that be?" Clarisse wondered as Joseph rose to answer.

"Princess." Joe greeted warmly as Mia entered the room.

"Hey, Joe." Mia replied warmly. "Is Grandma around?"

"I'm right here, my dear." Clarisse said, rising to greet her granddaughter. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh, no. I just - Mom was worried that Trevor hadn't gone down smoothly. Apparently when he gets fussy like that he can be rather stubborn about actually falling asleep."

"I wonder where he gets that from." Joe said softly, smiling at Amelia.

"Anyways," Mia said, shooting Joe a playful glance, "I told her not to worry but that I would check in with you anyways. I told her you were an old hand at dealing with fussy grandchildren but she worries."

"An old hand?" Clarisse asked.

"You know, Grandma, an expert. You've never heard the expression "old hand" before? I would have thought - " Mia stopped suddenly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh, no! Oh, Grandma, you *have* heard the expression before? You know I would never, ever say anything bad about you. I just - "

Clarisse stopped her granddaughter's babbling before it could begin with a warm hand to her shoulder.

"Of course I've heard the expression, my dear. I just wonder how you would know of my prowess."

"Seriously? Come on, Grandma. Surely you remember all the times you've helped me when I've been 'fussy'."

Fleeting thoughts of all the dressing downs she'd given the young woman over the years flitted through Clarisse's mind, along with another pang about missing her first 15 years, but somehow she had a feeling that wasn't what Amelia was referring to. Thankfully the young woman plowed right ahead with examples.

"Don't you remember the wicked headache I got the first night I was here? You told me it was because I hadn't 'kept myself properly hydrated' and you sat up with me for hours, first drawing me a lavender bath to help calm my nerves and then making sure I got plenty of fluids. Then there was that time I got that nasty rash from whatever it was that farmer had made for me from his lamb's wool. Again with the bath, though I forget what you put in it that time, and the lotion you got for me. You even put new sheets on my bed. And then there was..."

Clarisse smiled Amelia continued with example after example of all the times her grandmother had been there for her. She felt her body relax as Joseph moved behind her and rested warm hands on her shoulders, fingers kneading the skin ever so slightly.

"Anyway, Grandma," Amelia said, her list coming to a momentary end, "There was one other reason I came up here."

"Oh?" Clarisse asked.

"Mom wasn't really all that worried about Trevor being fussy."

"She wasn't?"

"Well, she was, but she wanted me to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"She said to tell you its totally cool if the answer is no and she doesn't want you to feel pressured and she understands that its kinda weird, although I don't think so, but she - "

"Amelia." Clarisse interrupted. "What is the question?"

"OK." Mia said, taking a deep breath. "Mom and I and Mr. O'Connell, er, Patrick, would like to ask you if you would be Trevor's Godmother?"

Clarisse had not expected that and, if not for Joseph's hands on her shoulders, she wasn't entirely certain she wouldn't have fallen straight to the floor.

"Well..." Clarisse began after taking several seconds to compose herself. "I...I would be honored."

Mia's face broke into a magnificent smile.

"Really?!" She exclaimed happily.

"Yes." Clarisse replied, her own smile growing. "My answer is yes."

"Awesome!" Mia exclaimed, lunging forward to pull her Grandmother into a fierce hug.

Joe smiled at the pair, his years of training allowing him to get out of Mia's way just in the nick of time.

He went to move back a few paces to give them some space when a warm hand wrapped itself around his wrist.

"And where do you think you're going?" Amelia demanded playfully. "Trevor needs a Godfather, too."

"Oh, Princess, I - "

"You would deny a request from your Queen?"

Amelia and Clarisse fixed Joe with an identical glare at that, the man before them nearly losing the cool facade he had perfected over his decades as Head of Security. Drawing on that discipline now, Joe bowed and replied, "Certainly not, your Majesty. It would be my honor."

Amelia wrapped Joe in a bear hug before releasing him and bounding towards the bedroom door.

"This is so cool!" She exclaimed. :You guys are THE BEST EVER! Oh, and, just between the 3 of us? Officially you'll be the Godparents but frankly, as far as I'm concerned, you'll be the best Grandparents Trevor will ever have."

Amelia blasted from the suite then, leaving disrupted air and two shocked adults in her wake.

"What are we ever going to do with her?" Clarisse whispered.

Joseph smiled and pulled Clarisse to him then, holding her in a tight, warm embrace.

"What we've always done." He answered just as softly.

Clarisse smiled at her husband.

"Are you ready for the next fifteen years?" She asked, the sparkle back in her eyes.

Returning her smile, Joseph replied, "And many, many more."


End file.
